


For Better or Worse

by HoneyGrunge



Series: Grunkles/Reader Smutty Adventures [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, But probably only like 10-20 percent porn ok I'm restraining the horny with this one, Drug Use, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Older Man/Younger Woman, Other, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Post-Weirdmageddon, Reader-Insert, She/her pronouns, Slow Burn, Slow burn but only with Ford, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:28:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22194796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyGrunge/pseuds/HoneyGrunge
Summary: Sequel to Kiss It Better.Summer's over, and plans are changing. The Grunkles are leaving Gravity Falls and you'll be damned if that'll end your relationship with Stan.  But can you hold up your end of the monster-hunting bargain, or will you be the weakest link?
Relationships: Ford Pines/Reader, Ford Pines/Stan Pines/Reader, Stan Pines/Reader
Series: Grunkles/Reader Smutty Adventures [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597507
Comments: 18
Kudos: 93





	1. Prologue, Or Something

**Author's Note:**

> Is it bad form to start a plotted longfic as the sequel to a porn without plot? Because if it's wrong, I don't wanna be right ☠☠
> 
> Anyways the beginning to this is pretty abrupt and it's meant to fit in with the end of the previous fic, so apologies for making you wade through pure, unadulterated porn just to find those nuggets of context if you want them 😅
> 
> Basically all that happened is you started dating Stan and when Ford showed up he tried to make you doubt Stan's dedication and get in your pants. Fun times!

The end of summer took you by surprise, mostly because you weren't even conscious to live it. According to everyone else in town, this past week was a tornado of weirdness and terror the likes of which could put Dorothy and Toto to shame. Unfortunately, you'll just have to accept everyone's stories as truth since you'd supposedly spent Weirdmageddon as a stone statue at the grocery store. In the dairy aisle, for what it's worth, since Ford can't exist without memorizing any and every detail of his surroundings. 

Yesterday it had seemed as though everything was returning to normalcy when plans for the twins' 13th birthday began rolling into motion, but you'd been naïve to hope that normal could describe any part of your life here. No sooner had the cake been distributed than Stan had announced that he was closing down the Shack to go on some winter long bonding trip with his brother Ford.

It seemed to be a heat of the moment decision and that announcement was the first time you'd heard anything about it. Maybe you had little right to be offended, seeing as your relationship with Stan is only about three months old and the apocalypse had just dipped its toes into your world's water, but...still. Wouldn't you make a point of talking to your girlfriend after escaping armageddon?

You spent last night at your place, not wanting to intrude on those precious final moments with the younger Pines twins. After everything they'd all been through, they deserved that privacy. Not to mention that Stan and Ford are now the thickest thieves around, literally overnight. If they've somehow worked through their demons they'll need time to iron it out alone.

However, despite everything, it's 12 am and Stan still hasn't bothered to call.

"I should just get to bed," you mumble, shoving the contents of your late dinner around on your plate as your mood continues its downward spiral. A new thought germinates as you scrape the food into your trash can: what about Ford? After all, he'd been the one to find you in the rubble, not Stanley. He'd actually been the only one of them to speak to you after the insanity of the week.

Maybe if Stan doesn't want you anymore, he won't mind if you find comfort in his other half. That morning offer may still stand, and there's no harm in asking.

You pull out your phone and search your contacts, finally settling on Ford's number and pausing just before your finger can start the call. This is wrong, even if Stan has really abandoned you. And yet, Ford HAD warned you. You'd done your best to cover up those seeds of doubt but it seems they've morphed into trees during all the distractions.

"Fuck it," you whisper, initiating the call and spotting your own reflection in the microwave. You quickly look away once you catch sight of the shame etched between your brows, and the bitterness burnt deep into the tight press of your lips. 

"Y/N?" he answers, sounding relieved. "I know you won't believe me but I was just about to call you."

"Oh...I was um, I was just calling to see if I'm still coming in tomorrow."

It's a stupid lie and you know it. If that's what you wanted to know, you could've just called Soos. Fortunately, if Ford caught it (and knowing him, he most certainly did) he doesn't let on.

"Actually, it depends."

"O-oh," you stutter, panic fluttering in your ribcage. "But I thought Soos was taking over!"

You can't lose the Shack too. Stan's enough of a loss for one goddamn day.

"I can tell you're becoming upset," Ford states in a matter-of-fact tone. God, he's always so detached, entirely unlike Stan. "I apologize for confusing you. I know you have no obligations here in Gravity Falls. College can wait, you have no outside business ties, et cetera. So I - agh, wait I should explain."

He pauses, letting out a deep sigh.

"You must be wondering why Stanley hasn't spoken to you since you woke up. The short of it is, he doesn't remember you. He suffered trauma that caused a severe case of amnesia. Thankfully it doesn't seem to be permanent, and we've been able to jog his memory with pictures and conversations. I was considering not letting him remember you, but I think that idea may be unwise, since a related memory may pull you back into his recognition."

"...unwise? UNWISE?" you yell, rage blooming in every cell of your body. You're barely able to keep yourself from flinging your cell across the room. "How DARE you!"

"I only sought to protect Stanley." He's defensive now, voice taking on an even more clipped edge. "Stanley and I lost thirty years of our lives which could have been spent together, and I didn't want to risk us losing more time if he chose to stay here for you."

The idea hits you so fast it nearly gives you whiplash; stubbornness smashing your anger out of the way to take center stage.

"You think I'm THAT selfish?? To hold him down here like that? I'm coming on your goddamn journey," you hiss, aggressively poking your finger into the counter and wishing it were his stupid chest. "If Stanley's okay with it, anyway."

"Yes, that's just what I was going to suggest," he grumbles, sounding thoroughly annoyed. 

"Oh, so now you don't even want me around? That's rich, coming from the man that tried to get in my pants within a minute of knowing me."

"It's complicated!" he yells. "I do find you very attractive but Stan loves women and I knew I could begin to get back at him if I fucked you, that was the only reason I was so insistent!"

That...actually makes a lot of sense.

And that's also the first time you've ever heard Ford say fuck.

"Okay, okay, let's just...calm down," you say, rubbing your face. "Um...what time should I be there?"

"6 am." At least his voice has lost its explosive edge.

"Great," you finalize, relief flooding the tightness in your chest when you realize that you're going to see Stan again and everything will return to, well, the Pines brand of normal. "Ford?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks, I guess. For not letting Stan forget me. But I'm STILL mad as hell and I WILL beat your ass. Oh, and I'm definitely telling Stan."

"I deserve it," he sighs, ending the call and leaving you alone with your microwave reflection again.

Almost immediately you drop the phone and bolt for your bedroom, snatching up everything that strikes you as necessary for a winter's trip (five pairs of cute panties are definitely necessary, right?). You probably won't be getting any sleep because of excitement and nervousness but as long as you're going to be with Stan, it doesn't matter. Even if you'll have to put up with that asshole Ford.

You'd miss all the sleep in the world just for this chance to finally, actually live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr and Twitter: Maedhros36
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! ♡♡


	2. All Aboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still trying to figure out how to structure this fic but I thought I'd crank out some exposition while I was at it. The chapters have been pretty bare-bones until now but they'll get meatier once the story gets rolling.
> 
> Also: I restart college this week so I'll be going on a partial hiatus and it'll be slow going. But I definitely want this to be one of the fics I give the most attention to.
> 
> Lastly, I've switched this over to the past tense since I generally prefer that in longfics, I hope the switch from the prologue isn't too jarring!

Exhaust from your car was illuminated in the first tendrils of sunlight. Your sleepy eyes caught the ghostly movement in your rearview mirror, pausing only for a split second before falling back down to the digital clock. 

5:59 a.m.

The bags in your back seat were minimal; you'd managed to pack only the absolute essentials after a couple hours of deliberation. Then of course there'd been the hassle of figuring out your apartment, and what could be done about the lease. Thankfully, in such a small town as Gravity Falls, nearly everyone was on personal terms with everyone else, including landlords. A quick explanation that you were going away for a family emergency had been enough to suffice, shockingly; but then again, Miranda and her sister Lazy Susan were always such kind souls.

You checked the clock again, jolting once you realized that it was 6:02. Just as soon as you looked back up, the side door of the Shack opened and a familiar shock of grey hair poked out to look for you.

"Here we go," you whispered under your breath, opening the car door and stepping out. Ford advanced, resting a six-fingered hand on your car door but not offering to help you with the luggage. His handsome features were set into a harsh frown of barely concealed anger, and you couldn't help the guilt that flared in response. It wasn't like you could blame him.

"I shouldn't have forced my way into coming with you, I-"

He raised a hand to cut you off, waving it dismissively.

"Don't. Stan and I had a fight, that's all. You and I were both selfish: you for wanting to come with us and me for wanting to deprive Stanley of a good relationship. He's not getting any younger and I couldn't live with myself if he died without getting to spend adequate time with you."

His morbid words shocked you, but he wasn't wrong. You had often found yourself worrying about Stan's health: his taste for carbs and sugar was going to catch up with him soon and he was far too stubborn to change his ways.

"...yeah, I guess you're right," you agreed. He nodded and watched you haul the first bag from the back seat of the car, reaching out to pull it from your grip and sling it over his own shoulder. No more words were exchanged once you'd secured the other suitcase; instead you trudged to the Shack behind him and gnawed your lip in anticipation. Had Ford already jogged Stan's memory?

Your question was answered by a burly-armed hug as soon as you walked through the doorway; Stan squeezed you close and let out a shuddering chuckle. 

"Heya, doll."

Before you could answer he'd already leaned in to seal your lips with his own, lingering until you finally melted into the loving touch. You heard a grunt to your right and Ford squeezed by, forcing Stan to break the kiss and shuffle out of the way. 

"Watch it," Stan hissed, Ford's shoulders almost imperceptibly squaring up in response. But just as soon as it happened it was over, the brothers dropping their eyes and silently agreeing not to fight after so much time spent wallowing in hate. From the way they were acting it was clear that Ford must've told Stan everything; the way Stan's hands possessively gripped harder around your waist was a dead giveaway.

"We need to hurry, if we're late the docks will charge us for an extra hour," Ford warned, disappearing into the kitchen.

"You hungry? I made Stancakes," your boyfriend asked, chuffing your shoulders then steering you after Ford. "We'll have to bring 'em with, though. Ford and I already got our stuff in the car, I'll get you a plate while you go get yourself settled."

Before he could guide you into the kitchen you dug your heels into the floorboards and pushed back against him, determined to hear with your own ears that he was down for this.

"Stan, listen. I know it isn't fair for me to want to come-"

"Shut up," he growled, giving you a sharp glare. "I'm an old man, toots, and I fucking deserve to go on a boat trip with my two favorite people in the world. Well, uh, two OF them, Dip and Mabel come first, y'know how it goes."

It took a monumental effort to keep tears from flowing upon hearing that he thought so highly of you. Unsure of what to say, you just smiled.

"Okay."

A final smooch was shared and then Stan bumped you into the kitchen, opening the derelict fridge to pull out the lone juice carton and prep your breakfast. Ford was nowhere to be seen so you assumed that he'd already gone to the car. Feeling nostalgic, you took a final opportunity to memorize the Shack, storing it in your mind's eye to remember on the long nights of what you knew was going to be a rough journey.

"You ready?" Stan murmured, already standing next to you with the food. You nodded and started for the door, snatching a fresh Shack t-shirt on your way out the door. Stan grumbled in mock frustration and pouted at your self indulgent smirk.

"You gonna pay for that, missy?"

"Only if you make me," you simpered, giving him a wink and scurrying out the front door only to run smack into Ford, who'd been recording something in his fourth journal. 

"Oof!" he grunted, groaning once he realized that his pen had been knocked all the way across the page. "Rule #1: as a preliminary measure, you are NEVER allowed to touch my instruments without my express permission."

"Yessir," you squeaked, carefully making your way over to the car and squeezing your second bag in next to theirs. 

"Don't mind him, doll. He just hasn't gotten his dick wet in thirty years," Stan cackled as he eased himself into the passenger seat; Ford's head whipped around to fix both of you with a withering glare.

"I'll have you know that I have impregnated at least three women from the year 5389," he huffed, stalking over to the car and snapping his door open. The news had Stan's eyebrows looking as though they were about to pop off and fly into space.

"Wait....so how does child support work?" you asked.

"Superb question, and the answer is: it doesn't. They ate the infants, since in that year there will be a severe shortage of grubworm protein."

Stan made a gagging noise and you couldn't help but join in, disgusted by the grotesque news but also intrigued by the fact that Ford was indeed not a virgin. A father too, even if very briefly and...tragically. A blush colored your cheeks and you avoided looking at the rear view mirror, just in case you made eye contact. Instead you buried your focus in the pancakes piled high on your plate. 

This was going to be a long trip.

The Stan O' War II was an insanely compact yet equally impressive boat. When the three of you had first pulled up to it, a million doubts had popped into your head. It was so small; how were three people supposed to comfortably live for an extended period of time??

It was only once you'd boarded that it became clear. Almost every inch of wall space had been converted into storage space. If there wasn't a compact drawer, there was a locker or a pull-out table instead. Organizers were stacked ceiling-high, most already stocked with Ford's equipment and specimens. 

One particular instrument caught your eye the second time you walked past, having already dumped your luggage on your bed. It was shaped like a compass, but it was completely opaque and lacked a needle. Upon further inspection the opacity was revealed to be a black pearlescent substance swirling inside, mesmerizing you until you were on the verge of picking it up.

"How'd'ya like it so far, babe? I know it's not the biggest boat but hey, they say size doesn't matter," Stan joked, leaning down to plant a stubbly kiss on your shoulder. He pushed up behind you and you let your head fall back, landing on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around your stomach. 

"I love it," you murmured, nuzzling into his chin.

He took a furtive glance towards the stairway to the deck, making sure Ford wasn't there before he continued.

"Guess what?" he purred.

"Huh?"

"Ford cooked me up a little somethin' special. Some sort of permanent cure for uh, little Stan."

"Wait, wha - OH!" you gasped, finally catching his meaning.

"Uh-huh, we're gonna have so much spontaneous sex, your pussy won't even know what hit it," he growled, making you flush. 

"Stan! What if Ford heard you say that??"

"Hate to break it to ya doll, but for the foreseeable future we're gonna have to fuck with Ford either in the cabin or up on deck," he snickered. "And these walls are a lotta things, but they aren't sound proof."

"Oh goddddd," you groaned, sagging in his grip. "This is so embarrassing."

"It's the price of passion," Stan sighed in a dramatic, Shakespearean voice. "To screw or not to screw, THAT is the question."

"Stop!" You gave his thick forearm a whack and pulled away, squealing when he dove in to nibble the shell of your ear.

"Ahem."

Ford had come down the stairs completely undetected by either of you. 

"Am I interrupting something important?"

"Yeah, she was just about to get on her knees and suck this big fat di-"

"NOPE, didn't interrupt a thing!" you yelled over Stan, crossing your arms and trying not to laugh.

Ford rolled his eyes, but there didn't appear to be any actual annoyance behind it. A smart man like him had to have already surrendered himself to his fate of overhearing dirty things for god knows how long. Stan excused himself to go get some Pitt while Ford reached out and picked up the mysterious object you'd been about to explore just moments before. Your interest didn't go unnoticed: he paused and held it up in his palm.

"It's dust, from the burnt remains of a Cipher."

"Cipher?" you repeated, aghast at the revelation. "As in, Bill?"

"No, no. Bill is dead now, for good. But there are other Ciphers out there; this one was named Andromeda. These remains act as a sort of compass in other dimensions, or when you're near strong anomalies in our dimension. Ciphers are a very numerous and insidious group; fortunately for us space and time are massive enough that we very rarely come across Ciphers in our boring little dimension."

He slipped the compass into his pocket and gave you a small smile, apparently pleased at your curiosity. But then his attention returned to the boat and preparing for launch; you're put in charge of double checking the food and water provisions while Stan secured everything up top with his knot expertise.

Finally, Ford cleared the Stan o' War II for sailing, and you ran up to the deck to watch the departure. It was rather anticlimactic, seeing as none of you spoke after Ford cut the rope. It was all so sudden and new; nothing could really be said in the face of such potential. You wondered for a moment if you would ever see Gravity Falls again, that quirky little town with a taste for intergalactic disaster. After all, it had become your home. A place where you felt accepted, and even when you felt judged it was never very serious. Everyone was weird, therefore weird was normal.

Maybe it didn't matter if you never saw it again. Stan's hand slipping up over your shoulder was enough evidence of that, as was his contented, toothy grin when you snuggled into his chest.

Whatever happened, you had the heart of home beside you, and that was all that mattered.


	3. In Which Stanley Gets Very Frustrated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing but pls enjoy ^_^

“That is  _ not _ how you handle a telescope!” Ford’s annoyed voice echoed down into the cabin, rousing you from your much needed nap. It was honestly a miracle that Stan had even left you alone long enough for you to fall asleep; a glance at your phone revealed that only twenty minutes had passed (and that you definitely had no signal). With these two as companions, it wasn’t like you should have expected to get very much shut-eye anyway.

“Yeah well it’s goin’ up your ass if you don’t stop momming me all the damn time! Christ, it’s not like I’m gonna use it to scrape barnacles!” Stan fired back.

“It’s delicate,” Ford sighed, defeat clear in his voice. Curious, you snuck up the stairs and poked your head around the corner to spy without being noticed. Stan was holding a telescope the wrong way, looking down the wrong end of it and squinting, exasperated by the fact that it wasn’t working. Ford was leaning against a crate next to him looking as though he were about to beat his twin with the instrument. Not that you could blame him. Stan was a very beatable type of guy.

“Your girlfriend is being nosy,” Ford announced. Not only was he a genius, but he apparently also had supersonic hearing.

“Excuse you! Privacy doesn’t exist anymore, get over it!” you huffed, scowling and moving out onto the deck. Then it hit you: you were on the fucking  _ ocean _ . A wave of seasickness gripped you and threatened to bring those Stancakes back up  _ onto  _ Stan. Ford instantly appeared at your side and held out what appeared to be a radioactive yellow gummy axolotl.

“Eat it, you’ll never feel seasick again. Unless you die and get resurrected, then the warrant ends because of legal loopholes. But you can always just take another!”

“Thanks,” you groaned. Popping it into your mouth was a struggle but you managed not to heave your guts all over the genius standing in front of you, which could be counted as a small victory.

“Oh and side effects include necrosis of the spleen, but that only happens in one out of ten people.”

“WHAT?!” you choked, panic gripping you as another wave of nausea threatened to swallow you whole.

“Relax, spleens can be regrown,” he scoffed, looking offended at the saliva strings dangling from your lips. “Let me find you a tissue, that’s rather disgusting.”

“Someone’s never gotten a beej,” Stan chuckled. He’d taken a break from the telescope to smirk in your direction.

“The point is pleasure, not to get digestive juices all over myself. Things change when you first non-human lay ends up copulating by dissolving a mate’s genitalia and absorbing their testicles.”

“And you used to call me a man-whore for stickin’ my dick in Blair Watkins,” Stan guffawed as Ford stared into space with a traumatized expression. “Oh, and by the way ya never said why we’re sailing the Pacific when the anomaly is s’posedly in the Atlantic.”

Ford flapped his hand and moved back over to the crate, pulling out the Cipher compass and shrugging.

“We’ll get there eventually. There’s more than one anomaly out there, Stanley.”

Stan grunted, tossing the telescope over to Ford and taking far too much pleasure in the subsequent alarmed shriek it elicited from his brother.

“You sure that alien didn’t dissolve your nuts? ‘Cuz that was schoolgirl quality right there.”

“Stanford Pines giveth, and he shall taketh away,” Ford hissed, directing a pointed stare at Stan’s groin. Stan grumbled and walked towards the cabin, for once making the smart choice to not retaliate. He slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you with him, wiggling a greyed brow.

“I think the lady needs to resume her nap.”

“I was going to teach her how to use a quantum destabilizer while I had the chance, but if your libido can’t wait I suppose I’ll just have to do it later,” Ford tutted. 

Before you could offer your two cents Stan had you down the stairs and halfway to the bed.

“Stan! What if some monster attacks us and I die because I can’t shoot the special gun??” you resisted, only putting half of your energy into the whining. 

“Listen, babe, you know Papa Stan can protect ya,” he teased, pushing you down into his bunk. He’d chosen the lower one for obvious reasons, and since unfortunately none of the beds were wide enough to accommodate more than one average sized person.

“ _ Never  _ say Papa again, that’s just...ew, just use daddy,” you shuddered; he gave a sheepish smile in apology.

“Sorry toots, I'm still a little rusty at this seduction thing.”

“Yeah, not like it’s obvious or anything,” you snorted, squealing when he flipped you over and worked at your sweatpants. As his tongue found your vulva you realized with a start that it had probably been two weeks since you’d last had sex. He paused, taking your jolt as a failure on his part. But your whimper of neglect soon had his mouth back where it belonged. You found yourself going limp in his arms, utterly lost in the smoothness of his tongue until you just couldn’t bear it. 

“Stan, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, wiggling back into him and reaching down to take care of your clit. But before you could hit that peak he was gone, dropping your hips down onto the bed. A thrill of arousal sizzled up your spine when the thump of his boots suggested that he might be taking you from behind, but to your dismay the bootsteps began to move away.

“What are you doing??” you hissed through gritted teeth, almost ready to jump him and fight for the dicking which you so desperately needed.

“Gonna go help Ford, I mean I’d be a shitty brother if I just made him do all the work up there while I enjoyed myself.”

You noticed the bulge in the front of his jeans and gave him a look.

“Uh-huh, and how’s Mr. Mystery down there feel about that?”

“You’re a goddamn succubus,” he groaned, failing to deny himself for the sake of teasing you. You quickly pulled off your sweatpants and gripped his blanket, gasping when he grabbed your legs and pulled them up onto his shoulders. The bunk was higher than one might expect, just high enough to reach Stan’s hips and provide perfect access. His hands brushed your thighs as he reached down to undo his fly; a small sigh escaped his lips when his hard-on escaped his boxers on its own.

“Shit, maybe now I’ll have morning wood to wake ya up with,” he snickered, the laugh cut short when you reach down to grab his shaft and push yourself down onto his thick head. He was so thick that you could feel the wide ridge of his glans pop into you, and apparently he’d felt it too if his gasp was any indication. He did it every time and it was definitely your favorite noise of his.

“ _ God _ ,” he hitched out, bucking into you with your hand still around him. Your fingers bumped into his balls and you made sure to give them a good squeeze before lying back, grabbing his pillow to anchor yourself. A pang of worry struck you at the fact that neither of you had brought condoms, but surely Ford had something special he could cook up if you asked nicely enough. 

“Oh  _ shit _ , toots I’m sorry, I-” but you could feel it before he was able to get the words out. His dick twitched and he pulled out just before it was too late; his face twisted into the almost pained bliss of orgasm as the telltale warm spurts painted your stomach.

“ _ FORD _ !” he thundered, dropping your legs and hastily stuffing himself back inside his jeans in preparation for ending his twin’s existence. “I’m gonna  _ KILL _ you!!! What were the side effects of that cure??”

“Well that’s the voice I would least expect to call my name during climax,” Ford’s suspiciously amused voice carried down into the cabin, sparking a laugh from you despite the frustration of Stan not offering to eat you out right away. Thankfully, your own tension had you close, almost close enough to have peaked at that one lone twitch before he’d pulled out. Instead of going to brawl with his brother Stan thankfully noticed your need through his anger; two thick fingers were slipping into you before you could even open your mouth to beg him.

“There you go, baby,” he purred, pushing in up to his palm and curling his fingers oh so deliciously. Your own desire had been neglected for long enough that the sensation pushed you into your own high on the third curl. Although, you’d be lying if you said that the two loose locks of surprisingly soft hair framing his intense gaze hadn’t been the actual cause.

As soon as you were done Stan leaned down to kiss your forehead, then found a spare washcloth to clean you off.

“You wanna come up with us or you need some more beauty sleep?” he murmured. The thought of drifting off once more was tempting to say the least, but according to Ford you really weren’t going to have a choice in the matter.

“STAN! Get up here, you’ve got to see this! NOW!”

The excitement in his voice just couldn’t be ignored so you hopped back into your sweats and followed Stan to the deck, where Ford seemed to be reenacting McGucket.

“ _ LOOK _ !”

“Is that...a whale?” you said, dumbfounded.

The creature was suspended in the air as though it were water. Its sheer size filled up the midday sky enough to cast the entire boat in shadow as it slowly advanced, its massive tail just barely touching the surface of the water on the downward stroke.

“A sperm whale, to be exact!” Ford practically screamed with glee. “But not one from our dimension!” 

“Wait, what scientist names a whale after jizz?” Stan pointed out, not nearly as excited as Ford. But then again, after punching a pterodactyl in the face and surviving Wierdmaggedon, strange happenings do tend to lose that shock factor.

“Okay, so, what do we do about it?” you asked. Ford was now holding an evil-looking harpoon gun and you were fairly disturbed by the implications.

“As long as I can get to it, I can stick this anomaly correcting mine to it and send it back home. Stan, you’ll shoot it and then I’ll climb the rope to attach the mine. (Y/N)...just uh, hold this,” Ford instructed, grabbing your wrist and dropping the Cipher compass into your palm. “Do  _ not  _ drop it. You drop it, I drop YOU into the center of the closest volcano. Got it?”

“Hey! Don’t you talk to her li-”

“NOW! Quick, get it before it passes over!!” Ford interrupted, holding Stan’s arm to aim it at the tail. “NOW!”

Water droplets rained down from the tail, which in itself had to be at least twice the size of the Stan O’ War II. Stan shot and the harpoon arced high, glinting in a sliver of sun that had escaped past the bulk of the whale. It struck gold and a deep groan of pain echoed deep enough to shake your ribs, almost stealing your breath at the end. The sensation held your attention long enough that you didn’t even notice Ford until he was already on the rope. He was hauling himself up at a rate that would’ve put a twenty year old to shame let alone any other sixty year old man. He climbed and climbed until within seconds he was there, arm reaching out to place the mine.

It all happened so fast. One second the whale was there and the next it was gone, replaced by blinding sunlight and its reflection on the waves.

“Ford?” Stan called next to you.

“ _ Shit _ ,” you swore, noticing the circular passage just before he did. “Stan…”

“I KNOW!” he yelled, frantically reeling in the harpoon and motioning towards the anchor. “Drop it, we’re going in after him.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, eyes wide with shock at the fact that things had escalated this quickly. Stan noticed your glazed expression and sighed, leaning on his knee. “Listen, I’m sure it’s just gonna be a matter of grabbin’ him and gettin’ back out, it’ll be fine. We’ve all seen worse.”

The anchor sank and Stan took hold of your forearm. He pulled you close and huffed in a deep breath, grumbling “ _ dammit Ford _ ” under his breath before finally squeezing the trigger. After that there was just air and the sickening feeling of the world dropping out from beneath you. Stan’s grip grounded you enough that you felt bold enough to crack an eye open, but once you saw how fast the portal was closing in you  _ had  _ to squeeze them closed again and let out a scream of terror. 

The impact was horrible; a deep crunch reverberated through your skull and every nerve in your body came alive in a flash of lightning pain. Heaving, you opened your eyes and flailed, identifying Stan’s voice groaning from beneath you.

“Hurts...everything... _ ow _ ,” he coughed, shoving you off and cradling his arm. 

“Nice to see that you’ve made it,” Ford’s wry voice greeted you from your immediate left. A glance over revealed his disgruntled face staring back at you. Bits of straw were tangled into his hair and what looked - and  _ smelled  _ \- suspiciously like cow shit was plastered across the front of his sweater.

“How did we end up HERE if whales come from the ocean?” Stan demanded, sitting up and fixing his brother with a withering glare. 

“I told you already - it’s a dimension different from our own, who knows what normal is here,” Ford grunted. “But I’ve already taken a peek, and you’re not gonna like it.”

“What is it?” you interjected, finally finding your words after recovering from the initial shock.

“Pilgrims,” Ford announced, his mouth set into a grim line. 

“Oh HELL no!” Stan yelled, bolting up and shoving the door open only to confirm his worst fears. “Get me right back through that fucking portal RIGHT now!”

“I can’t, it’ll take a few hours for the next mine to charge. Just relax, it’ll be okay.”

“Of course we land in the middle of my LEAST favorite era in history, I KNOW you did this on purpose Ford, all of this is just to get back-”

Ford rolled his eyes and caught yours; you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at Stan’s rant.  _ It could definitely be worse _ , you thought. And if the playful smirk on Ford’s lips was any indication, he was thinking the exact same thing.


End file.
